


Pink Cadillac

by BoStarsky



Series: Assorted Kylux [49]
Category: Crash Pad (2017), Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Clyde being self-depreciating, Clyde wishes he was smol, First Meetings, M/M, Online Relationship, Size Kink, Stens indulges him, Stensland being a disater bi, a baby pink cadillac, fucking hopeless romantics, lets be real, misuse of a table, socks and sandals, these two morons were made for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:42:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24880261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoStarsky/pseuds/BoStarsky
Summary: Clyde has never met Stensland, he’s never even seen a picture of him. This should raise red flags, but Stensland has never seen him either, and neither of them have asked for a picture. Clyde likes the anonymity of it, that way it’s easier to live the fantasy because if a picture of him were to ever make its way onto their chat it would be obvious that he’s nowhere near as small as he wants to be.
Relationships: Clyde Logan/Stensland (Crash Pad)
Series: Assorted Kylux [49]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/993903
Comments: 32
Kudos: 66





	Pink Cadillac

**Author's Note:**

> The whole premise for this is right there in the tags: Clyde wishes he was smol, that's it.
> 
> enjoy!

Ever since puberty hit and Clyde grew a whole foot in a couple of years, he’s been very aware of his size. He’d been one of the smallest boys in his class, then suddenly he was taller than his sister, then his brother and both his folks. None of them really know where his height came from, he just happened to be that way, they figured.

He’d been a beanpole for a good few years, his frame broad but not much more than skin and bone because he was growing too fast for the rest of his body to keep up. Everywhere he went he’d stand out like a sore thumb, impossible to ignore when he’s a head taller than most, even more so when he packed on muscle in the army and came back weighing a good forty pounds more than when he left.

Everything about him is big, from his size thirteen boots, limited wardrobe from Big and Tall, that’s more big than tall these days and just about the only place he can find jeans that are long enough. It’s all too big, making him long for a time he was under six feet and could buy his jeans at Walmart like everyone else. If he lived somewhere bigger than Boone he reckons that wouldn’t be a problem anymore, but here in town everything has its limits and with his license being suspended he can’t go driving any further than to work.

None of this would have been a problem if he’d just stopped growing.

So like most people do in lieu of having someone to talk to about embarrassing things, Clyde turns to the internett. 

Sadie always insists that if he likes the internett so much he ought to be going on them dating sites to find himself a girlfriend, Mellie agrees, though she gives him a cheeky wink whenever she catches him looking at a man for longer than five seconds instead. Jimmy, like his daughter, is more blunt about it, reminding him he can still fuck even with one hand and half his side singed.

Clyde doesn't much agree with any of them, preferring to keep to himself because what attention he’s gotten has mostly been about his size and little guys wanting him to manhandle them up against a wall. He doesn't like that very much since it makes him jealous he can’t be the one getting held up and fucked against the wall.

The internet may not provide the physical aspect of things but there are places for guys like him that want to be small and treated as such and that lets him live a fantasy for a little while, letting some stranger coo at him and call him little while he jerks off in his room in the wee hours of the morning, still sweaty and smelling like beer from a shift at the bar.

It’s on one of those dating sites that Stensland comes into the picture.

Clyde has never met Stensland, he’s never even seen a picture of him. This should raise red flags, but Stensland has never seen him either, and neither of them have asked for a picture. Clyde likes the anonymity of it, that way it’s easier to live the fantasy because if a picture of him were to ever make its way onto their chat it would be obvious that he’s nowhere near as small as he wants to be.

At first he knew Stensland only as  _ HopelessRomantic564,  _ described as: Tall, awkward, and looking for someone special. Now Clyde doesn't think he could ever be anyone’s “someone special” but the descriptor of tall gives him hope that maybe Stensland is taller than him.

He himself had simply signed up as  _ SouthernBelle,  _ a man looking to be someone’s little boy. Most of the forthcoming offers were of the creepy kind, some even disturbing and Clyde made sure to report all of them out of concern for any minors that shouldn’t be there in the first place.

Stensland had been charming right off the bat and Clyde had perhaps been a bit quick to trust. Within two days they'd exchanged names.

Now it’s been over six months and Stensland has evolved from being his virtual Daddy to a friend and a confidante that Clyde relies on more than he’d like to admit. He’s almost always there, replying in a flash to help ease Clyde’s mind when he wakes up from a nightmare or has simply had a bad day. He tries to offer the same back but he’s not sure he's very good at it, always having been more prone to logic and reason over emotion. Not that either way ever works out for him all that much.

It’s been six months since this all started and Clyde really wants to see who Stensland is, not wanting to admit that he’s fallen in love. Ill advised as it is.

He’s fairly certain this isn't what Sadie, Jimmy, and Mellie had in mind for his love life, but here he is, crushing on a man he’s never seen and doesn’t know a whole lot about. 

So far he’s chickened out every time he’s thought about broaching the subject of swapping pictures or making use of the app's video chat feature, scared that Stensland doesn’t feel the same way or will lose interest when he sees what Clyde looks like. He knows his face isn’t the prettiest, an odd collection of features and spots, but it’s not the worst either. What worries him more is there's no way of covering how broad he is, nevermind that Stensland might be put off when he sees the hand, or even the burn scars covering his left side from collarbone to navel.

The point of the matter is that Clyde isn’t the pretty little thing Stensland probably imagines him to be. What he is is a redneck born and raised ex Green Beret who has an obsession with curses and the occult. Hardly a catch, and very doubtfully the special someone Stensland is looking for.

Still, not knowing is eating at him in a different way. What if, against the odds, Stensland is the one for him and he’s walking past the opportunity of a lifetime because he's scared? He can’t, in good conscience, let himself do that.

Compiling everything he knows about Stensland into a list doesn’t take very long and condenses down to a few facts like, tall, ginger, and probably lives in seattle. Then there's the list of what he  _ knows  _ about Stensland. Like his obsession with strawberry everything, wanting a pink Cadillac, and his need to constantly be in love.

So Clyde in his most impulsive fit of dumbassery to date goes and buys himself a nice Cadillac Eldorado from 1960 and asks Earl to make it baby pink for him because why the hell not, he’s always wanted one too. But now he has a pink Cadillac and Stensland doesn’t know, nor can he know that he prompted Clyde to spend a good chunk of his heist money on a car he can’t legally drive.

*******

“What’s with the car?” Mellie asks while wielding a pair of scissors alarmingly close to his ear. “You're too young to be having a midlife crisis.”

Before Clyde can reply Purple Lady interjects from the next chair over, “It’s a nice car, but would have looked better in purple.”

As one unit all three of them turn to look out the window where out front of the salon sits two Cadillacs nearly two decades apart in age, one pink and the other purple, both of them shining in the sun. “I just fancied it pink, is all,” Clyde says. Behind him Mellie sighs.

“Clyde, you ain’t Elvis. If you wanted to come out you could have just said so cause everybody knows you like boys.” Now it’s Clyde’s turn to sigh while Purple Lady nods in agreement.

“It ain’t about that, Mel.” He’s well aware his sexuality isn’t exactly a secret, but he still lives under the  _ don’t ask, don't tell  _ out of habit, not seeing any point in announcing something most people already know about him. Except for his niece cause her mama is a homophobe and Moody is even worse on that front with his MAGA views.

“Then what? Cause I sure as shit don’t believe you just went and got one cause you fancied it.”

“Just leave it be, Mel,” Clyde grumbles, watching those little scissors fly by his ear again, it’s not like he can tell anyone the truth behind his impulsive decision to buy a car so he’ll just have to blame it on the high of knowing he could afford to do it.

Surprisingly Mellie doesn’t bring it back up for the rest of his haircut, though she keeps giving him looks in the mirror that tell him she’s not given up on knowing why. Clyde will just have to avoid her for a while. Which would be easier if they didn’t live in the same house. 

He doesn’t have anyone but himself to blame for this.

After he’s settled the price Clyde returns to his pink Cadillac with his hair all feathered and coiffed - something he’s sure Mellie did to spite him - Clyde pulls out his phone to message Stensland, mentioning off hand that his sister called his car gay. He gets a near instantaneous reply demanding why he hadn’t mentioned the car before and Clyde is too embarrassed to tell him he bought it on a whim so he says he inherited it from his grandma and just got it restored.

Way to start digging his own grave, at this pace he won't ever be able to meet Stensland in real life on account of all his lies.

Trying not to overthink it he goes back to his normal routine, letting Stensland talk him to a searing orgasm by telling him about all the things he’d do for his little boy after his shift at the bar. He only feels a little guilty knowing he’s nothing like what Stensland imagines him to be. If he thought he could he’d go looking for a new Daddy, but even thinking about it feels too much like cheating.

On Thursday afternoon a week from then Clyde is at the Walmart looking for his usual shampoo in the resorted shelf, searching for the bottle more by colour than name and adding it to his cart when he finally finds it. His weekly shop almost done with he wanders the aisles, stopping to pick up a jar of pickles for nibbling and the new edition of the serial romance he’s been reading for years now and is too invested in to stop. 

It’s a normal day by all definitions of the word, nothing the least bit out of the ordinary is going on. He’d sexted with Stensland last night, slept until noon, gone for a run, and now he’s here picking up everything on his and Mellie’s shopping list that’ll keep them fed until next week and a few extras for the family barbecue. 

It keeps being normal while he pays for his stuff and bags it up only taking a turn for the interesting when he’s almost at the car before seeing a skinny beanpole of a man taking a picture of it. This in itself isn’t unusual, what is is that he’s ginger. Now, Clyde only knows one ginger with a love for pink Cadillacs and it’s too far fetched to be him but that doesn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat.

The possible Stensland hasn’t noticed him yet, Clyde simply watching him slowly circle the car and take a picture here and there. If it somehow actually is him Clyde has unknowingly hit the jackpot, he’s beautiful, though younger than he imagined. It’s a shame he’ll probably change his mind when he sees that Clyde both outweighs him and is taller. So much for being Stensland’s little boy.

Maybe they don't ever have to meet and Clyde can just leave the long legged ginger alone, but he does sort of need his car because it's too far to walk home when he has frozen goods. The top is down too and it wouldn’t be hard for someone to just take it.

Clyde shifts, his armload of paper bags rustling, Possibly Stensland looks up, face full of surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry, is this your car? I didn’t mean to be creeping but I’m looking for someone who has one of these.” 

_ Oh sweet jesus, his accent! Keep it together Clyde. _

“That’s fine, but I gotta be getting on home fore all my ice cream melts.” He just won’t say anything and things can go back to the way they were before. Skirting around Possibly Stensland, Clyde dumps all his shopping in the backseat, trying to pretend he’s not actively running away.

“Wait, what’s your name?” he asks and Clyde freezes half way into the driver’s seat. “I’ve never seen him and I think I love him but all I know is that he lives in West Virginia and drives a pink Cadillac and I saw yours when I was going by and I just had to stop and see if it was you.”

There’s a moment of absolute silence, like somebody picked up a remote and hit the mute button, they stare at each other, Clyde getting antsy where he’s awkwardly crouched in the open door of the car. Then Stensland opens his mouth again and Clyde knows he won’t be able to lie to his face if he asks what Clyde thinks he’s going to ask.

“Clyde?” And there it is.

He swallows, “Yup.”

Then against all expectation Stensland smiles, a big, shining smile that lights up his eyes and makes him shine more beautifully that he could have imagined.

“I know you gotta be disappointed,” he straightens back up, closing the car door behind him with a creak caused by age more than anything else. “I ain’t nothing like what you imagined.” He’s no dainty little thing, he's big, and broad, and visibly damaged.

“Fuck that, you could be seven foot and weight four-hundered pounds and you’d still be my little boy.” Stensland is cute in a strop, Clyde notes, his ears not really believing the words. “If you want to be,” he adds, already looking a little dejected at Clyde’s lack of reply.

“You mean that?” he says at long last.

“I do because I love you.” There it is again,  _ love,  _ Stensland keeps saying it as if he means it and Clyde just isn’t sure what to do about it. “I came down here to find you, Clyde because I had to know. I realise that it might be a bit grand and overwhelming in real life but I couldn’t just tell you online that I love you when it would be a hundred times more romantic if I came and found you and had flowers and chocolates and asked you to be mine.” 

During his entire declaration Stensland paces back and forth on the blistering tarmac, gesturing wildly with his noodly arms, looking much like a ginger q-tip.

“I kinda forgot the flowers and chocolate but that’s why I was here and I apologise that I was going to get your gift at Walmart but plane tickets are expensive and I wasn’t even sure if I was in the right part of the state. Then I saw your car and I knew it had to be you.” He stops and turns, hands splayed out in front of him as if he's offering his heart up on a silver platter. 

Clyde is speechless, never in his life has something like this ever happened to him and with this not being a movie he doesn’t automatically know what to say. There is no script here and it’s up to him to make a choice that could potentially change his life for all eternity. Is it this difficult for everyone?

“I don’t know what to say,” he settles on, trying to think of a way to explain that he’s not normal.

“Just, give me a chance? Yes or no?” He comes a little closer and Clyde notices he’s wearing rainbow socks with his sandals, a little eccentricity that just makes him like Stensland more. Is he really going to let this opportunity pass him by because he’s scared? Doing that would go against everything he’s been raised with and what they taught him in the army, everyone he’s ever looked up to would be disappointed in him for saying no to a chance at more.

“Yes.”

The smile that breaks out on Stensland’s face makes it worth it all on its own, making Clyde feel like the sun is shining down on him when Stensland rushes up and pulls him into a hug despite him being all sweaty and sticky with sunscreen. It’s the nicest hug he’s had in a long time, and the only one that isn’t from a family member. Maybe he really has been lucky for once?

“Will you let me buy you dinner? I want to show you a good time, and I want to take you to bed so we can do everything we talked about.” He stops to take a breath before announcing: “I want to make love to you, Clyde,” loudly enough for a few heads to turn their way.

Clyde lights up like a beacon, smiling bashfully. “I can’t tonight cause we got a barbecue, but you can come to that if you like?” If anyone asks he can tell half the truth and say he found Stensland lost in the Walmart parking lot with no money.

“I can?”

“You can.” Though it’s not so private it’ll give them a chance to get to know each other face to face. A chance for Stensland to change his mind. “You got a car?”

“No, I took the bus cause I can’t drive.”

“Then let’s go fore the ice cream melts any further and Sadie gets mad at me for letting it happen.” Resuming his previously cancelled plan Clyde gets in, waiting for Stensland to round the car and dump a worn backpack in the backseat. There's a look of wonder on his face when he gets in eyes shining with awe simply from being in a car he’s dreamed about, and Clyde loves knowing that he could at least do that much for him.

Thanks to Earl and his magic fingers she starts without a hitch, that big V8 rumbling to life with the kind of smooth confidence only a car made for luxury can possess. It’s one of Clyde’s most favourite sounds in the world, it just can’t be in the top spot anymore since Stensland’s voice came into his life.

“You know, I bet we could fuck in the backseat,” Stensland remarks casual as can be, while Clyde nearly drives them off the road.

“Christ, Stens, don't say that, I only got one hand on the wheel.” Clyde doubts he could be trusted if he had two and an iron grip if Stensland keeps saying stuff like that. Though he has to admit, the backseat is pretty big.

“Sorry, how about Daddy wants to make love to you in the backseat of this fine car?” 

There are times where Clyde has been known to wear an old Stetson he got from the thrift shop in town, right now he wishes he’d worn that hat simply so he could cover his blushing face with the brim. “You can’t just say that,” Clyde admonishes softly.

“I’m sorry, I know! It’s just I'm here and you're here and I can touch you and see you! I can’t wait to get you in my arms and do everything I’ve said I would.” If Stensland keeps saying things like that Clyde might have to pull over anyway so he can hug Stensland and wipe the budding tears from his eyes. There isn’t a whole lot that can get to him but Stensland still wanting him despite everything he isn’t hits the bullseye in a way he didn’t think was possible for someone as damaged as him.

“You can do all that later.” Once Clyde figures out how he's going to pull it off without anyone knowing what’s actually going down because the last thing he wants is his family knowing he’s being fucked while they're enjoying their food or what have you. At least Sylvia is the one hosting so him and Stensland could sneak away early, or he could just say he's feeling shaky and isn’t in the mood for a party.

Pulling up outside Mellie’s house he’s already thinking about excuses he could make when she gets back home any minute now. First though, he needs to put the groceries away before the ice cream melts even more and Sadie does get mad at him for ruining it.

Stensland is beaming the entire time they're putting things away, looking one shot of caffeine away from vibrating off the planet and into space. He's barely closed the door of the fridge before he's being backed up into it, slightly chapped lips finding his in a kiss that has him melting faster than the ice cream had. Stensland knows what he’s doing, easily taking Clyde’s breath away with a tender hand on his face and one on his back, cradling him to his chest.

The house is quiet save for the beating of their hearts, and it might be that Clyde is the only one hearing that while struggling with the fact that this is a man he picked up in a Walmart parking lot not one hour ago. Even having known Stensland for six months already it feels sudden after only just having seen his face for the first time.

What interrupts them is the rattle and squeak of the screen door, Mellies arrival making them part like the red sea and return themselves to normal before she ever sets foot in the kitchen. 

“Who’s this?” she asks with a note of surprise.

“I found him at the Walmart, he missed his bus and I figured we got enough food to help him out in the meanwhile,” he explains, hoping it’ll be enough to get by for today at least. What comes next he’s yet to figure out since Jimmy is the one with a brain for planning in this family.

“We bringing home strays now? What’s your name?” 

“Stensland.” He looks nervously between them and Clyde can’t quite tell what he’s thinking, but he has a bad feeling when he glances in the vicinity of Clyde’s hands.

“This is my sister, Mellie.” The relief on Stensland’s face is almost enough to make Clyde crack a smile but he keeps it in, Mellie would know right away if he did.

“Alright, let me go get changed, Jimmy’s already there firing up the grill so you better get the meat in the cooler cause I aint waiting for you and that parade float you're driving.” She gives them both a look, Clyde already opening the fridge back up to get the sausages and beer back out.

“ _ That’s _ Mellie?” Stensland whispers when the click of her cowgirl boots has vanished behind the closing of a door.

“Yup.” Clyde realises he may not have painted his sister in the best light seeing as he’s mostly been complaining about her crusade to get him on a date with every gay man in a thirty mile radius, which she has yet to do because he always finds a reason to squirm his way out of it.

“Are you sure it’s alright that I come with? I can always get a room at the hotel or something.” Fiddling with the hem of his tie dye t-shirt, Stensland shuffles his feet while Clyde gets the food in the cooler, leaving the ice cream for last and closing the lid just in time for Mellie to come breezing back in a snatch it off the table.

“I talked to Jimmy and he says to get lost on the way and don’t you dare show up without a hickey. You two ain’t half as subtle as you think you are.” Before Clyde can even open his mouth she’s halfway out the door, leaving them with the house to themselves.

They stand there in her wake, staring through the living room at the front door until Stensland breaks the silence, “Did your sister just tell us to fuck?”

In his flabbergasted state Clyde can only mutter a single word, “Yup.”

More specifically, she told them to go necking, but to Mellie that might as well be the same thing; not that Clyde has ever looked down on her for wanting to have her fun.

“Are we going to?” There’s a hopeful look in Stensland eyes, time slowing down for the few seconds it takes for Clyde to make up his mind.

“I reckon so.” It’s been a while since he’s done this but Clyde is sure he can remember the steps, starting with a hand around Stensland’s waist to pull him in. He’s not usually so bold but right now there's a lot that needs doing before he loses his nerve.

Stensland giggles and then they're kissing again, starting out searching and ending up panting and sloppy as they get worked up. Clyde is well aware there are limitations when it comes to the fantasy and his actual size, Stensland doesn't seem to be of a similar opinion, steering him backwards into the dining table. There’s a lot of fumbling before they get any of their clothes off, the excitement of it all letting him forget about his scars until soft hands are touching him with not an ounce of judgement.

None of this is going how Clyde thought it would and he couldn’t be happier about it, giving himself over to Stensland with more ease than he ever imagined. Face to face or over text Clyde trusts his Daddy either way, letting him unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down below his ass.

“We got the olive oil over on the counter,” he mumbles against kiss swollen lips, hoping that that’s where this is going, so even if it goes wrong down the line he can remember this encounter on the kitchen table.

There’s a wide eyed look of surprise on Stensland’s handsome face when he hears the suggestion, scrambling over to the counter to find the plastic bottle of cheap olive oil that hasn’t seen much use yet. Coming back he tries to lift Clyde onto the table, boosting him to sit on the rickety thing he’s hoping can stand up to whatever they're about to do to it.

And just when Clyde didn't think this would get any better, Stensland grabs him by the hair and forces him to look into his pale green eyes, “Are you going to be good for Daddy?”

Clyde feels like he’s skipped to a different dimension where the silly looking Irishman he found at the Walmart has suddenly become a different man, but the accent is still there, and so is the mop of ginger hair. This is the line connecting Stensland with his Daddy, letting him see them both as a whole and Clyde likes what he’s seeing. He nods, starting to work his jeans further down to give Stensland easier access.

“Good boy.” Firm hands grab his legs, folding him back on the table and exposing him to the air. Had he known this was coming he would have shaved.

Stensland doesn’t seem to mind, a hungry smile pulling at his plush lips and Clyde is pretty sure no one has ever been so genuinely eager to look at his asshole before. A dry finger traces the rim, Clyde’s cock throbbing with a wave of arousal that rushes over him.

Things get sloppy when the oil gets involved, pouring down his crack to make a slick puddle under his ass that he couldn’t care less about when Stensland slips an oiled finger into him. It barely feels like anything at all but it has him brimming with anticipation for what comes next, making him wish they could skip this part all together and just get to it. In any other situation he’s a patient man, but this is something he’s been waiting for for six months already, fantasising and imagining it could be real. Now that it is he doesn’t want to wait any longer.

“I’m going to fuck your little ass so good, I’m going to make your scream.” In person Stensland’s dirty talk leaves something to be desired, though Clyde still loves it for the simple reason that it’s not demeaning to him or demanding he take charge..

By the time the second and third fingers are added he’s clutching the edge of the table with his flesh and blood hand, the fingers of his prosthetic twitching in response to the confusing signals he’s putting out. If he wasn’t too far gone already he'd take it off, but as is he doesn't give a rats ass as long as Stensland fucks him within an inch of his life.

Just as a fourth finger joins the rest Clyde speaks up. “I’m ready,” he gasps, pushing down on Stensland’s fingers.

Apparently not needing to be told twice, Stensland rushes to expose himself and coat his perfectly curved cock with the spilled oil, lining himself up and giving Clyde a look before thrusting into him in one smooth go. The table creaks and groans under him in response to the jackrabbit pace that has Clyde’s eyes rolling back and his hand reaching for his weeping cock to help it along.

Breathless and flying high, Clyde easily loses himself in the moment, barely listening to the dirty things spilling from Stensland’s mouth. What they're doing is wild and reckless but oh so good, sending sparks from the top of his head to the tips of his toes everytime his prostate is brushed over. 

With the help of his hand Clyde comes with a startled gasp, his body tensing while his cock twitches and spills all over his belly.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Stensland grunts, clutching Clyde’s legs to his chest while chasing his own release in Clyde’s oversensitive body. “Do you want me to come in your ass? Breed you and make you mine?” The words alone are enough to have him whining for more, begging Stensland to fill him up.

Soon his rhythm falters, getting uneven in his desperate need to come, Clyde waiting with bated breath to feel the hot splash of come inside him and see what Stensland looks like bathed in ecstasy. 

He doesn't have to wait for long, Stensland letting out a shuddery moan followed by Clyde’s name as he spills deep inside him, cock throbbing hotly while pumping him full of come. With a slack jaw and hooded eyes Stensland looks a little ridiculous, he doubts he looks anymore graceful while coming so it hardly makes a difference, it’s just weird finally knowing. 

In the last six months he’s indulged in no shortage of fantasies about Stensland’s appearance, never once thinking he’d be a beanpole of a man radiating a disastrous, chaotic kind of energy with his colourful wardrobe and fashion faux pas. Not that Clyde should be judging anyone on what they're wearing, Stensland just isn't what he expected. 

He’s more.

“Jesus, that was something.” Indeed it was.

With a little help from Stensland, Clyde sits up at the edge of the table, unsure if he’ll be able to show his face at the barbecue with everyone knowing what they just did. But first they ought to erase any evidence of  _ where  _ it happened or he’ll never live it down.

“Is your bumhole alright?” The innocent sound of the question takes Clyde off guard, a smile tugging up a corner of his mouth. Some Daddy he’s got.

“Yeah, it’s alright.” A little sore maybe, but that’s to be expected when they didn’t use proper lube to slick the way. Having a glance around at the mess Clyde sighs, “Let’s get this cleaned up so Mellie don’t chew us out.” Mentioning his sister while he has cum leaking out of his used hole is not a feeling Clyde particularly likes, even if it is true.

Getting to his feet he pulls his jeans back up for now, he’ll need to change anyway since he can’t exactly show up with an oil stain on his ass. Getting the paper towels they get to soaking up the spilled oil before cleaning off the very obvious ass mark on the tabletop that has Clyde’s ears turning red just looking at it. With a little teamwork they get it clean in just a few minutes and to anyone else it would look fine, but to him and Stensland it obviously doesn’t. A shared look is enough to have them giggling, spurred on by the giddiness of having had some pretty good sex and the shared memory of what’s been done to that poor table.

“You gon be sticking around a while?” Clyde asks when the laughing has died back down.

“I will if you want me to,” Stensland replies, tuning those pretty eyes on him that makes Clyde’s heart go soft.

Sweat sticky and half naked he’s pulled into a hug that’s a lot more tender than the one at the Walmart, Stensland somehow succeeding in making Clyde feel smaller than him with the way he cups the back of his head and tucks him in real close. The embrace tells him all he really needs to know, Clyde wrapping his arms tightly around a slim waist that’s just soft enough to be perfect.


End file.
